


Just The Way You Are

by tentainokonton



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-23 01:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tentainokonton/pseuds/tentainokonton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is another one of those “Zayn’s butt-hurt about what people have to say about his tattoo” one-shots. This is my take on it, with a lot of Ziam fluff. Like, major fluff. Inspired by all of the wonderful Ziam moments I’ve seen. THIS IS TOTALLY SOMETHING LIAM WOULD DO JUST SAYIN.</p>
<p>Put simply: EXTREME ZIAM FLUFFY FEELS AHEAD.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just The Way You Are

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr back in July of 2012.

Zayn knows better than to go online for more than a few minutes. He knows, and yet he still does it anyway. There’s something intoxicating about reading what people have to say about you, even if most of it is either founded in rumors, lies or wishes.

Sometimes he’s surprised by the vitriol some people have about him, when they’ve never even met him. How can you hate someone so strongly without knowing them, he wonders? The way some of these people write about him, he swears he’s killed their cat or eaten their goldfish. Or worse, slept with their girlfriend…or boyfriend.

Curiosity kills the cat never has more meaning to him than now, as he sits in his hotel room in Houston, reading comments on some celebrity gossip site about his new tattoo. The sheer number of negative, vicious posts is not only overwhelming, it’s completely terrifying. Who knew people had such fierce opinions about something that had nothing to do with them?

After a few moments his eyes glaze over, reading the words, but not fully ingesting them:

_What a f*cking moron…_

_The microphone prolly is a metaphor for his love of dick LOL_

_How many more pointless tats is this douche gonna get?_

_Omfg loser, couldnt he have picked smthin bettr?_

By the end of the fourth or fifth page Zayn feels his throat tighten and his eyes sting. He won’t cry. No, he refuses to cry for these gits, these people who know nothing about him and the meaning behind his tattoos. None of them would probably care to learn that he got the tattoo to represent how music is his lifeblood, and that he shares part of his very essence when singing. Even though his bandmates teased him relentlessly about the tattoo—and even more so the meaning—they still understood.

He’s not sure why he’s chosen to ruin such a beautiful night. He’s all but killed the buzz from their amazingly exhilarating show, and now he’s left feeling remorseful and self-conscious.

Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten the tattoo after all.

Zayn musters up the courage to close the website, and in a fit of anger slams his laptop shut. The sound is not only jarring to him, it also startles Liam Payne, who happens to be sitting across the room, fiddling around on his own laptop. Liam’s suddenly staring at him like he’s about to decapitate a kitten.

Zayn realizes he’s scowling a moment too late, which leads Liam to ask, “Were you reading about yourself on some website again?”

There’s no sense in lying. Liam always finds out the truth.

“Yes,” Zayn grumbles.

“About your new tattoo, I bet.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, now I know it’s true. Why do you torture yourself? I mean, look at Harry. The press is spinning all kinds of ridiculous rubbish about him right now and he’s—” Liam pauses, turning slightly pink. Harry’s a mess with all this nasty press lately, and Zayn thinks Liam’s just now remembering this. “Okay, so he’s not a good case in point. But anyway!”

Liam is up and out of his desk chair in a mere moment, moving toward Zayn, who’s sitting at a small dining table near the entry. He wraps his arms around Zayn’s neck from behind and kisses his ear, then nuzzles against him.

“Your tattoo is lovely. You’re lovely. Just the way you are.”

“I just don’t get it,” Zayn finally admits, feeling heat emanate off him in waves. He’s always so controlled with his emotions, but with Liam? With Liam he’s finally learned to let himself go, at least a little.

Just as he leans in to Liam’s touch, the other boy abruptly pulls away. Irritated, Zayn says, “Who the hell do they think they are, saying my tattoo is stupid or ridiculous?”

Liam doesn’t respond. He’s rummaging through their closet, looking for something. His new-found lack of interest only serves to irritate Zayn further. The Bradford boy huffs quietly, watching his boyfriend with growing curiosity as he says, “Aha!” and pulls out his guitar case.

“Li, what’re you doing?”

But Liam just flashes him a smile, as if to say, _don’t worry about it_. He pulls his guitar from the case and takes a seat on the bed, and in an instant, Zayn gets it. He hears the first few familiar chords to Bruno Mars’ Just The Way You Are, and his lips curl into an undeniably flattered, somewhat embarrassed smile.

“Li, stop, the others are on either side of us. If they hear you, they’ll—”

“Shh,” is all Liam says, still smiling at him. God is he smiling at him. There’s something in it, something so loving, so adoring, Zayn feels his poisonous anger melting away, being replaced by an overwhelming sense of affection. It envelops him entirely, and soon he’s smiling wider.

Liam begins to sing, and Zayn’s falling in love with him all over again. Liam is all he can see, all he can hear. He swears those honey-sweet words are flying right inside of him, straight from his lover’s mouth, and he closes his eyes, taking them in for everything they’re worth.

“ _’Cause you’re amazing, just the way you are…_ ”

Zayn barely waits for the song to end to leap from his chair and tackle Liam back atop the bed. Liam grunts in surprise, moving his guitar just in time. Words alone cannot express what Zayn wishes to convey. He’s kissing Liam on the lips, the cheek, the neck, ears—taking him in for all he’s worth and enjoying the closeness.

This is the one who loves him completely, heart and soul. This is the one for whom he sings on stage each and every day. This is the one whom he loves with every fiber of his being.

He practically strangles Liam in a tight embrace. After a few moments he simply lies atop him, staring down into those beautiful eyes, fingers tracing over smooth, full lips.

“You’re a fucking sap,” Zayn says, a grin plastered across his face. “My sap.”

“Well, it’s true,” Liam replies almost coyly. “You’re amazing just the way you are. Don’t let anyone tell you different. Ever.”

“Never,” Zayn replies, because only one opinion matters to him.

In Liam’s eyes, he’s perfect. And that’s all he could ever ask for.


End file.
